


Loose Lips

by BloodEnvy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 16:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: You overhear Rocket talking to Quill about his apparent feelings for you. You tell Gamora, and gossip spreads on the ship until Drax calls Rocket out in front of you.





	Loose Lips

“Would you can it already, Quill?”

You sighed, stopping halfway up the ladder to the cockpit and rolling your eyes. All you were hoping for was a chance to ride shotgun and maybe learn a few things about piloting the ship while everyone was still on a success-high from a mission well done, and for once, fully paid. You should have known the collective good mood wasn’t going to last. Groot grumbled from his place on your shoulder, apparently sharing your sentiments.

“I’m just saying—” Quill’s voice was colored with laughter.

“I know what you’re sayin’, Quill.” Rocket barked back irritably, and you felt the ship shudder slightly – undoubtedly, he had adjusted course a little too aggressively. Groot’s tiny hand tightened in your hair. “And I’m tellin’ you to knock it off.”

“I don’t hear you denying it, man.” Quill teased. You paused as you made to move back down the ladder again, curiosity getting the better of you. What in the galaxy could Rocket have to hide that Quill would interesting enough to be bugging him this much? “Why don’t you just admit it?”

“I am Groot?”

“Shh,” you hushed Groot, holding a finger to your lips. “Just a second, sprout.”

“I ain’t admittin’ anything to you, Star Bitch.”

“C’mon, man.” Quill sighed, almost exasperated. Whether that was with the conversation or the alteration to his self-assigned moniker, you couldn’t be sure. “Maybe I can help you out. You know, I am a legendary—”

“Asshole?”

“Just… okay?” Quill groaned, almost childishly. “You like her, man. It’s pretty damn obvious. I mean, she probably already knows – you never call _her _a bitch. From you, that’s like a marriage proposal.”

“Aw… you jealous, Quill?” you could hear the smirk in Rocket’s voice despite his annoyance. The cold metal of the ladder was digging uncomfortably into your palm, so you wrapped your elbow around it, the sleeve of your jacket padding it slightly. Groot grumbled quietly on your shoulder, reminding you that you should just climb back down and carry on with your day or climb up and rescue Rocket from this conversation entirely, but you couldn’t. Some part of your mind was catching on to what Quill was implying, but you couldn’t quite reach it. Not yet. “Now, would you just drop it already?”

“Nope. Why won’t you just admit it?”

“Because it don’t matter if I like her or not.” Rocket snapped. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna change just because I say somethin’ out loud.”

“So, you admit there’s something to say?” Quill tried snidely, a victorious lilt to his tone. There was a long pause, and when Rocket answered, his words were quiet, gruff. An unwilling confession.

“She… she called me ‘sweetheart’.”

“Oh, shit.” you muttered, eyes widening.

“And…?”

“And it don’t matter that I like her!” Rocket growled, deflating as he continued. “I’m… we ain’t the same. She ain’t gonna be interested in somethin’ like me.”

“I don’t know, man.” Quill replied, and you could practically see him shrug. “Y/N isn’t like that, she—”

“I am Groot!” the little plant on your shoulder said impatiently, way too loud. You hurried to clamber back down the ladder again, cursing as Groot wrapped vines around the top rung and pulled himself away from you and up to the cockpit. You swore again as you slipped, knee banging painfully against metal. Eyes watering, you dropped as quietly as you could down to the floor.

“I am Groot!”

“Groot?” you heard Rocket say in confusion. “How’d you get up here?”

“Shit.” you hurried as fast as you could with an aching knee to your bunk, closing the door and leaning against it. “Well… _shit…_”

***

“So, are you going to tell me how you managed to injure yourself without even leaving the ship?” Gamora asked, nodding pointedly at the ice pack resting on top of your now-swollen knee. You were sitting on your bed, back against the wall and leg stretched out in front of you, a book in your lap. You avoided her eye, keeping it on the pages as you turned one.

“Nope.”

“So, can I assume it was something dangerous or embarrassing?’

“Assume away.”

“Y/N.” Gamora replied, unimpressed. She sat down on the edge of her own bed, rescuing her boots from the floor. She raised an eyebrow at you, almost tired with your weak attempts at avoidance.

You sighed, tossing your book onto the mattress beside you. “I hit it on the ladder.”

“On the ladder.”

“Yup. On the ladder.”

“And you forgot the basics of motor skills, why?”

“I didn’t.” you deadpanned, and she gave you a slight smirk. “I just… I slipped.”

“You slipped.”

“Why do you keep repeating what I’m saying?” you asked irritably, gesturing at her. “I slipped. On the ladder. Sometimes people who aren’t amazing, invincible warrior women aren’t one hundred per cent steady on their feet, y’know.”

Gamora’s smile widened. “You know, you only start telling me I’m impressive when you’re hiding something from me and you’re trying to distract me from that fact. And you wouldn’t blush if all it had been was a simple slip on a ladder.”

“Well, it works on Quill.” you grumbled under your breath, folding your arms over your chest petulantly.

“Not all of us are so easily distracted,” she said, pulling on her boots. She looked up at you with a raised brow when you didn’t speak, and you sighed.

“I kind of… eavesdropped on Quill on Rocket.” you admitted. “I was halfway up the ladder, and I kind of just… heard what they were talking about. I didn’t mean to… it just kind of… happened.”

“And what exactly were they talking about?”

“Nothing important.”

“Y/N.”

“Me. They were talking about me.”

Gamora didn’t say anything, but she sat back, her jaw tightening slightly.

“Nothing bad!” you explained quickly. You ran a hand through your hair. “It’s uh… Rocket.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing! Nothing, he just… he might have, like… feelings?” you wrinkled your nose distastefully. “Dear God, I sound like a teenager.”

“Y/N.”

You sighed. “Rocket apparently has some feelings for me.”

Gamora ave you a blank look.

“Like… in a romantic sense?”

“I know what way you mean,” she replied, her tone flirting with impatient. “I just thought it was obvious.”

“What?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Is everyone on this ship completely blind? Or is this a Terran trait?”

“I don’t—”

“Rocket isn’t as complicated as he thinks.” Gamora told you plainly. “I’m sure projecting that tough exterior at all time seems like a wise idea—”

“Speaking from experience?”

Gamora gave you a pointed look.

“What? You could say that about like sixty percent of this crew at any given time.”

“—particularly after everything he’s been through – whatever that is – but with how short tempered he is, it really just makes it easier to see when guard’s down. And it’s almost always down, a least a little, around you.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve really never noticed?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… I just figured… we’re friends, y’know? I didn’t think he was talking to me any diff—”

“When was the last time you heard him call Drax ‘doll’?”

“Okay. Fair point…. Has he never called you…?”

“No.”

“Oh.” you repeated lamely.

“Is it a problem?” Gamora asked, tucking her hair over one shoulder. “The way he feels about you?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s not like we’re… we aren’t the same.” you said, realizing after a moment that that was exactly what Rocket had said too. “We could never really have… I mean, we couldn’t have a _relationship. _He’s… he’s a _raccoon_, Gamora.”

“I’m aware, Y/N.” she said dryly.

“So, where does that leave… whatever this is?”

“That would be up to you.”

***

“Hey, you hungry?”

You looked up from where you were straining to rescue one of Groot’s toys from under some random equipment, flat on your belly and hair in your eyes. The little plant was standing on your back, tiny hands locked in your hair. He bounced impatiently, eager to have it returned to him.

Rocket was watching the two of you with a raised brow, and you felt your cheeks stain pink – you’d been doing your best to avoid him for the last few hours, at least until you didn’t feel like a complete dick for listening in on his conversation. You turned back to what you were doing, partly because you wanted to hide your blush, and partly because Groot was now tugging at your hair.

“He just had his dinner.” you grunted, back under the equipment and reaching almost painfully. Your fingers barely brushed the edge of it, and you swatted the toy back towards you. It skittered out across the floor, and Groot let out a little whoop, bounding after it happily. You cursed to yourself as he almost took the hair he’d been holding with him.

“I was askin’ you.”

“Oh.”

“Y’know, you look like an idiot lyin’ down there like that.”

“Yeah? Then tell your kid to stop throwing his shit under the machinery.” you shot back, wiggling back out and turning to grin at him. This kind of back and forth you could handle – clearly, he didn’t know about your transgression – and his usual abrasive attitude was in place. Which was always fun.

“You know he can get it out himself, right?”

“If you can get him to realize that, all power to you, Rock.” you told him, sitting up and dusting off your hands. “And why would ever deny you a chance to mock me?”

Rocket scoffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Much appreciated, doll.”

You smiled, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Now, what’s this about food?”

“Quill picked somethin’ up planet-side. You want some, you better hurry your ass up.”

“Since when is my ass any of your concern?” you asked with a teasingly raised eyebrow as you stood. Nothing in the way you spoke to him had changed, but now you found yourself watching his reaction. And if he could, you were sure he’d be blushing. “And whether or not I eat for that matter?”

Rocket scratched at the back of his head, and you pressed your lips together to hide an amused smile as he rolled his eyes. “Jus… you wanna eat or not, humie?”

“Aw, you come up with the cutest nicknames.” you joked, snickering as he scoffed loudly. “Lead the way, dude.”

Rocket grimaced at you as you fell into step beside each other. “Since when do you call me ‘dude’?”

“Don’t like that one, huh?” you said with a shrug as you entered the kitchen, reaching over to ruffle the fur on top of his head without really thinking about it. The rest of the crew were already squeezed inside – Quill was sitting on the bench for some reason, but with Mantis recently joining the rest of you, space was starting to become an issue. Rocket surprisingly didn’t shove your hand away; instead, he ducked away from you, paws hurriedly fixing what you’d mussed. “Is there something you’d prefer?”

Gamora raised an eyebrow at you pointedly, and you saw Quill wink at Rocket out of the corner of your eye. When he realized you’d seen him, he feigned an itch, rubbing at his eye and avoiding your gaze. You rolled your eyes.

Rocket cleared his throat as you sat next to Gamora, shaking his head. “We eatin’ or what?”

You smirked, filling a bowl from the pot on the counter and pushed it across the table to him before helping yourself to one.

“So…” Quill dragged out the word, the beginnings of a smirk half-hidden behind his fork. “What were you two just talking about?”

“Rocket’s apparent aversion to nicknames,” you told him, leaning back in your seat. You felt a tugging at your pant leg as Groot clambered his way up your leg and into your lap. Apparently, he’d grown bored of the toy you’d spent ten minutes rescuing and had decided to join the group. At least, you hoped that was what it was. If you had to dig it back out from under god know what, you were going to be really annoyed.

“He doesn’t hate all of them…” Quill asided with a grin, and Rocket shot him a glare.

“I thought calling each other by the wrong name was a tradition in Terran romantic relationships.” Drax said casually, spooning up a mouthful of noodles. “Have you decided to forgo it?”

You choked on your dinner, coughing and eyes watering. You dropped your dish on the table in front of you, and Groot clambered hastily from your lap over to Gamora’s. Rocket rounded on Quill, teeth bared.

“You mouthy piece of—”

“Hey!” he protested, hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t tell him anything!”

Drax looked unabashed, continuing with his meal. “The rodent has feelings for Y/N. I thought that was obvious.”

Rocket’s eye found yours for a second, and his ears drooped as he quickly averted his gaze.

“It’s true.” Mantis piped up helpfully from where she was squeezed in between Drax and Rocket. She was leaning back in her seat awkwardly, towards Drax, clearly worried that Rocket was about to lose his temper.

“How would you know?” Rocket said defensively, eyes narrowed. “You ain’t never touched me.”

“Oh no, I’m too frightened to.” Mantis replied, nodding pacifyingly. “I’m afraid you would try to bite me again.”

“Good.”

“But Drax has explained to me the courting habits of other species—” Quill rolled his eyes at that “—and it is very apparent that you have romantic feelings for Y/N.”

“It’s not—I don’t have—” Rocket scoffed, flustered. He floundered for a denial, an excuse… something before he met your eye again. You bit your lip and he shook his head, pushing himself back from the table. “Screw this.”

The rest of you sat in silence as he stormed out, and the quiet stretched out between you all for a long moment.

“Uh…”

“God, I’m going to have to deal with this, aren’t I?” you groaned petulantly. “Thanks a lot, Drax.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Y’know, the fact that you really don’t get sarcasm makes shit so much more annoying.” Quill snorted as you stood with a sigh. He opened his mouth to say something and you held up a finger as you headed out of the room. “Rethink that idea, Quill.”

***

“Rocket?” you knocked hesitantly on the doorframe of his bunk, watching as he tossed tools and junk metal over his shoulder irritably. He didn’t look up or even pause when you spoke, and for a moment you considered just walking right back out. “You got a second?”

“’m busy.”

“Putting a dint in every surface of your bunk?” you suggested, stepping aside as a spanner he threw blindly bounced towards your shin. It clattered to a stop in the hall behind you. “And apparently the hall… you wanna watch where you’re chucking that stuff?”

“You wanna get out of my space?” he shot back without looking up or turning around.

“Honestly? I’d love to,” you shrugged. “I’d pretty much throw myself out of the trash release if it meant avoiding an awkward conversation. But, hey, I’m quirky that way.”

“Just get out, would ya?” Rocket growled, evidently having run out of things to throw. Whatever he’d been looking for he hadn’t found it. “I swear, you are the biggest damn pain in the ass on this ship.”

“High praise considering the other contestants,” you deadpanned. “Now, you wanna actually talk to me or do you wanna throw out a couple more insults?”

He stayed silent, arms folded petulantly over his chest.

“Fine.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Enjoy your night, Rocket.”

You turned to go, annoyed, and were already out in the hall by the time you heard him speak.

“It wouldn’t work.”

His voice was so quiet, almost uncharacteristic for the brash little creature, that you almost missed it. You stopped, inhaling slowly. Sure, you were the one who had tried to start this conversation, but that didn’t mean you were actually prepared for it to _happen. _Part of you had been kind of hoping that he would be completely happy with playing dumb.

You turned around slowly, coming back to stand in the doorway. He hadn’t moved, and he didn’t look up. You didn’t say anything – you just waited for him to continue.

“It doesn’t…” he said after a minute or two. He sighed defeatedly, running his paws down his face. “It doesn’t matter. What I… it wouldn’t work. We ain’t the same.”

“Rocket.”

“So, we don’t really need to be talkin ‘bout it.” he shrugged. “’s fine.”

“Y’know… I don’t really know… what I was going to say in this conversation.” you admitted awkwardly, and he huffed a laugh despite himself. You leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I mean, I’ve been on this ship as long as you have… I’m still trying to get used to the idea of being on different planets and talking to _actual _aliens. I’m not really sure if I really know where to go forward. But I… I do think that you’re putting too much thought into this.”

Rocket finally looked up at you, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. It was almost enough to wipe the defeat from his expression. “It ain’t much. We ain’t exactly similar.”

The side of your mouth quirked in a smirk. “I don’t know. We’re both sarcastic little fuckers. Both like a good drink. We both care about Groot…”

“You know what I mean.” he said with a shake of his head. “…Physically, we ain’t—”

“Who said anything about physicality?”

“We— well, I—”

“Rocket, you are such a guy.” you chuckled lightly. “Can we just leave it at you’re you and I’m me and we don’t really need to think of anything beyond that. That stuff… it’s not the be all and end all of relationships, y’know?”

Rocket’s ears perked up, and he straightened. “Are you sayin’…?”

You smiled, touching a hand to the top of his head. You ran your fingers through the soft fur, mussing it slightly. “Like, I said. You’ve been putting way too much thought into this.”


End file.
